Malfoys Don't Love Mudbloods
by ashleyjocanflyy
Summary: They came back to Hogwarts hoping to just finish school after the war. They didn't want to become friends. Draco and Hermione find themselves slowly becoming friends, and then... something more? M for later chapters!
1. Encounter in the Corridor

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the handsome Draco, intelligent Hermione, or any others in the series of Harry Potter. Credit to all of these characters goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction. Please review! The setting is when they come back to Hogwarts for their 7th year after the war. Enjoy!**

One pale, silver eyed fellow was prowling the corridors as usual. Well, not prowling, per say. Draco Malfoy liked to refer to it as 'patrolling'. On this particular night, the halls of Hogwarts were silent. This was because one Hufflepuff 5th year had decided to throw a little party – a party that Draco had been told not to go to. This had bothered Draco immensely, but he had merely pretended to not care. He had told Pansy earlier, "It's just going to be full of those bloody Potter idiots, anyway." This had calmed Pansy's nerves – whom he still shagged even though she was just as annoying as before the war – but not his own.

At nearly 1 AM, which was past curfew by 3 hours, he heard footsteps. Before this moment, he had not thought of where he was, but now his mind registered just which corridor he was 'patrolling'. Draco Malfoy had been spending his late hours in the Seventh Floor Corridor. His brows furrowed at the thought, thinking of how close he was to those blasted Gryffindors.

The footsteps were rounding the corner now, and would no doubt see Draco. He muttered a few choice words before stepping into the shadows behind a small statue. His eyes caught sight of a Gryffindor girl, all alone, with rather familiar hair. That brown bush of hair sparked a longing in his chest, and he knew who this was. The one girl that even he, the Slytherin Sex God, couldn't get his hands on – Hermione Granger. Draco hated to admit it, but he himself had harbored a terrible crush on the bushy haired bookworm since their 1st year in Hogwarts. Then, of course, there was that one mess up he made, that one thing he wished he could change most – Mudblood. Why did he have to call her such a thing? He regretted it terribly.

His silvery, piercing eyes scrutinized Hermione as she walked – no, stumbled – by the statue he was hiding behind. He realized only now how drunk she was. Her hair, though always bushy, was about twice it's normal size, indicating that those Potter idiots had done some major partying after all. His thin lips went down into a frown, even angrier that he had not been invited to this seemingly fun party.

He would have continued to stand silently in the shadows if Hermione hadn't fallen suddenly. She seemed to have tripped on her own two feet. With a slight twitch of his mouth – indicating the beginnings of that trademark Malfoy smirk – Draco stepped out of the shadows, and approached the bookish Gryffindor. Since this year began, Draco hadn't dared to tease the Golden Trio. This would be the first time that Draco talked to Hermione.

Her eyes, glazed and heavy lidded, gazed up at the silvery haired Slytherin. In a moment of sobriety, they widened in …was that fear he saw… shock. Still sitting on her bum, she crawled backwards away from him.

"Dun need your help, M-Malfoy..." She blubbered, glaring daggers at him. Looking down at her clothing, she cringed. For once, the Gryffindor princess was not in her usual school robes. In fact, she was barely wearing anything. A skimpy black dress with orange trim barely covered her breasts, and she vaguely remembered Ginny allowing her to borrow it for the party. 'Where is Ginny?' She thought to herself, but redirected herself to the current situation.

"Right, Granger." Draco said in a voice deeper than she remembered, and reached out to grab her arm. The arm quickly moved behind her so that he couldn't grab it.

"Bloody hell, Granger, I'm only trying to help!" The steely eyed Slytherin spat, grabbing her arm with a quick, firm grasp. He pulled her up to her feet in seconds, his hand lingering on the baby soft skin until she swatted it away.

"You just touched a Mudblood." She sputtered, confused as to why he would touch her at all. She was a Muggle born after all. This proved pointless, as Draco's eyes suddenly flared with an anger she had only seen a few times in her life. This time grabbing both of her arms – with a speed her drunken mind couldn't comprehend – he pushed her against the nearest wall.

"Don't call yourself that." He whispered frantically, gazing down at her. He was easily a foot taller than her, so this looked quite similar to an elephant attacking a mouse, and nothing at all like a slithering snake attacking a large, spunky lion.

"Call me what? A _Mudblood_?" She asked with venom, emphasizing on Mudblood. She raised her left arm, showing the area where Bellatrix had tortured her. The word 'mudblood' was scrawled there, still just as red and burning as it was when it was first put there. Draco cringed as he remembered that day in the Drawing room, watching her being tortured, and unable to help her. It hurt terribly to think of it.

"I said – don't call yourself that!" He hissed, quickly placing her arm back down to rest at her side. Giving her one last shove against the wall, he walked away without looking back.

Hermione stood there, paralyzed with confusion. She listened to his footsteps drift farther and farther away, unable to do anything. With a silent cast of the Disillusionment Charm, she finally regained her ability to walk. She felt sore from all of the shoving he had done, but she wouldn't dare tell anyone. No, if Harry or Ron asked, she would say that she simply had had lots of fun at the party. Yes, that would suffice, she thought.

Regret washed over Draco like a huge cloud of despair after he turned a corner, but he couldn't do anything about it. Malfoy's didn't feel pity, after all. However, they didn't help Mudbloods either.

**So, what do you guys think? Terrible? Great? Want me to keep going? Review!**


	2. The Wit Sharpening Potion

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the handsome Draco, intelligent Hermione, or any others in the series of Harry Potter. Credit to all of these characters goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

**Hi there, my lovely readers! I didn't take a lot of time writing this chapter, so it's not very good. The next chapter will be better though, I promise!**

For weeks after that, the two didn't talk. They avoided all forms of communication, and only talked to each other when it was needed for class.

Hermione had indeed told Harry and Ron that the bruises were from partying, nothing more. Harry let it slide, though she knew he didn't believe her horrible excuse of a lie. Ron, however, flew off his rocker about it. Hermione remembers how Ron was when he first saw the bruises.

"_Hermione, where in the bloody hell did you get those?" He squeaked, his hand flicking towards a hand shaped bruise on her left arm. _

"_Just a bit too much partying, Ron, that's all." She had replied calmly, already feeling terrible for having to lie to him. She used her right hand to cover the left arm's bruise, and began to walk up the stairs towards the Girl's Dormitory. _

"_Partying? You don't get bruises like that from a party, Hermione!" Ron replied quickly, grabbing her wrist gently to make her stay. He wanted to know where she got them. Why was she keeping this from him? He hated being lied to._

"_Yes you do, now unhand me, Ronald!" The bushy haired girl snapped, pulling her wrist away as soon as he touched it. She stormed up the stairs to the Dormitory, not even bothering to look back. _

_Once the door had closed behind her, she sighed, resting her head against it. She ignored the eyes that watched her from their beds. Parvati and Lavender would just have to shove it for all she cared right now._

_With one last sigh, she began to get ready for bed._

Draco's roommates didn't even notice his return. Most were either shagging, asleep, or simply didn't care. Not to mention that some were actually dead, thanks to the war.

_His best mate, Blaise, was sitting on one of the black leather couches when Draco walked in. _

"_Out for a little shag before breakfast, eh, Draco?" Blaise cooed, chuckling. He munched on a licorice wand idly, raising an eyebrow at the blonde Slytherin._

"_Maybe, Zabini." Draco replied quietly, making his way to the Boy's Dormitory. _

_His roommate didn't bother prodding him for answers. He simply continued to eat his candy, defiant to the curfew. _

It was only when Professor Slughorn paired them up in a project that they had to acknowledge the other's existence.

"Alright, Malfoy, let's make this as painless as possible, _please._" Hermione said, with emphasis on please. She looked at him as though he was dumb, then began to work on the potion.

"That's the wrong ingredient, Granger." Draco replied, ignoring her first annoying comment; if she was going to act immature, than he would do the opposite. He pointed at the ginger she was about to sprinkle into the cauldron.

Glaring at the blonde Slytherin for pointing out her mistake, she disposed of the ginger. Though she wouldn't admit it, she was grateful he had said something.

"Here, let me do this. I've always been better with potions than you anyway, Granger." He said arrogantly, taking her place in front of the cauldron. He ignored her huff of annoyance, and added the scarab beetles.

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy." Hermione mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. She glanced around the room, watching as Ron's cauldron bubbled over. She stifled a giggle as he freaked about it.

"He's a dumb git, that Weasel…" The blonde Slytherin muttered under his breath, stirring the bubbly liquid casually. He chuckled, that Malfoy smirk evident on his face as Hermione glared at him for calling Ron a Weasel.

The two didn't talk for the rest of the class period. For once, they seemed to get along quite well. Well, for Hermione and Malfoy, anyway.

**Well, what do you guys think? I'm trying to take things slow, since it's not very like Draco and Hermione to generally stand each other. Hopefully I'll be posting chapters more often. I also hope this chapter wasn't as terrible as I think it is. xD**


	3. A Ticklish Charm

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the handsome Draco, intelligent Hermione, or any others in the series of Harry Potter. Credit to all of these characters goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

**Hi again, guys! I'm so, so sorry about the last update. That chapter was a pretty big letdown compared to the first chapter, if I do say so myself. Hopefully this update will suffice for last chapter's failure? Review once your finished to tell me~**

The Astronomy Tower allowed Draco to think in peace, even though it was where he had first attempted anything Dark. Now, in the moonlight, Draco could hear himself think without all of those bloody 1st years asking him for directions to their next class. What idiots. Most places in Hogwarts just annoyed him with all of the constant chatter. Nobody ever shut up around here, how in the world did they ever think?

"Idiots around here probably don't even think." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. Gazing down at the ground far below him, he remembered Dumbledore falling. He sighed, and wondered – not for the first time – how the War may have ended if Dumbledore had lived. Perhaps Draco should have taken up on the old wizard's offer, and hidden with his mum. No, Voldemort would have found them eventually, and then Draco would be dead. Besides, what Malfoy would hide willingly to save lots of Mudbloods?

"Weasley is our king, he always lets the quaffle in, Weasley is our king…" He sang in only a whisper, a slight breeze blowing his silvery hair into his face. Since the war, Draco had let his hair grow out. No one cared about the Malfoys anymore, so why did it even matter how he looked?

"Weasley cannot save a thing; He cannot block a single ring, that's why Slytherins all sing…" He continued, tapping his fingers against the railing. He smiled somewhat, remembering how things used to be. Then, also remembering how he treated Hermione and the others, his smirk turned to a frown.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" A voice asked from not far behind him, making him jump. Turning his whole body around to face the intruder, he wasn't prepared for the site in front of him.

There was Hermione, with her usually disheveled hair, but her clothes – or lack thereof – were what truly astonished Draco. Never had he seen her in something so tiny, excluding the dress she had worn to the party. In only a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, Hermione looked almost… attractive. Perhaps Draco was just sleep deprived. Though, her breasts were so perky, and how the tank top was almost too small for them amazed Draco. He always thought Hermione was the skinny, flat-chested type. Oh, how he was wrong…

"Hey, Malfoy, you there?" Hermione said impatiently, crossing her arms across her chest. She noticed his staring, and it freaked her out. How dare he be looking at her like that?

"What? Oh – I could say the same about you, Granger." His silver eyes gazed over her body still, drinking her features in. It wasn't often – oh, who was he kidding? He had never seen the prudish Gryffindor Princess like this. But, oh, how he loved it.

"I happen to be-" Hermione began with her haughty, 'I know everything' tone, but was then cut off by a very arrogant sounding Draco.

"Snooping around with Potter? Looking for your beloved Weasel? Or, could it be, that the Gryffindor Princess is actually skipping curfew?" His casual Malfoy smirk was ever evident as he spoke with amusement, though all the while he wanted to shut up. If he kept going, they'd end up fighting again, and if he was honest, he'd admit that he didn't like fighting with Hermione. However, Malfoys didn't admit to things like that.

"I'm not skipping curfew, Malfoy, unlike you." She replied, her lips pursed together, brows furrowed. She knew he was right, but there was no way in hell that she would admit to it. In truth, Hermione was indeed skipping.

"Oh? Then what do you call this, Granger?" The Malfoy heir cooed, gesturing towards her. His silver eyes traveled down her once more, for good measure.

For a while, Hermione had no response. He had caught her, really, though… she had caught him as well. She could turn the tables, then. Yes, that's what she would do. She wouldn't dare lose to a damn Malfoy.

"If we're both out here, then you must be skipping too. Now, why's that, Malfoy? Repenting for your sins? Surely, you have a lot of them, being a servant to You Know Who and all." Hermione spat the words out, making sure to add as much venom to them as possible. She hoped this would infuriate him, oh yes, she hoped it would.

Her hopes were fulfilled seconds after she had spoken the words. Draco, eyes gleaming with anger, pulled out his wand. Before he could cast anything at her, Hermione had her wand out and was yelling "Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand, made of Hawthorn wood and with a unicorn hair core, flew from his hand, and landed more than 10 feet away from him on the wood floor of the Tower.

"Rictusempra!" Hermione cast, laughing to herself as Draco doubled over in laughter. She didn't cast that spell because she thought it would be effective, but simply because it would amuse her. She wished this was a more public place though. Then, she would have been able to embarrass him immensely.

"Having fun there, Draco?" She said sarcastically, looking down at the giggling form below her. Placing her wand behind her ear (usually Hermione would put her wand in her robe/pocket, but that was impossible with pocketless gym shorts), she began to walk away.

"W-wait, Grang-ger… please!" Draco begged through fits of laughter, holding his hand out. He watched her retreating form, knowing that if she left without fixing the jinx, he would be stuck here for hours. Now was a time when he wished he knew wandless magic.

Draco barely heard Hermione as she said the reverse incantation, but knew she had once the tickling stopped. Catching his breath, he stood up, brushed the dirt off of him, and grabbed his wand. He noticed that Granger was nowhere to be seen, but perhaps that was for the better.

Since Hermione had left, the blonde Slytherin boy went back to gazing out at the starry night sky, thinking about all sorts of things. Hermione's curvy, supple body kept coming up in his mind though, and after just a few minutes of standing there, he decided it best to go on back to the dormitories.

Hermione, after saying the reverse incantation, began walking down the stairs. She had decided that there was no point in staying at the Tower after Draco had regained his senses. She giggled, remembering how helpless he was, and how he had begged for her to fix him. She realized with a shock that he had actually said please. Malfoys didn't say please, it wasn't befitting.

"Maybe I should do that more often…" She mumbled to herself, grinning in spite.

**How did you guys like it? Did I regain your attention, or do I still need to repent for giving you guys such an ugly second chapter? I'm loving your reviews so far, and I hope they keep coming! Updating again soon!**


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